The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1887-02-03
The Little Fortune Teller.

1t needed no one to toll that it was
d birds cage. The Haunting banana
leaves that waved over tho front
fence, the bright pomegranate bios
SONS that peered at you as
the gate opened, the voluptuous per-
fume of the night jasmine that filled
the atmosphere thereabouts o. even.
lngs, all suggested that the little resi-
dence on Rue Condo could contain
nothing but some soft-throated, light.
hearted and gay inmate. Even the
striped awning that kept out the suns
glare from the gallery seemed to speak
OF refinement and beauty within, and
when the sparkling notes Of q piano
poured out into the streets, hating
tho pedestrians by their sweetness, one
would make an affidavit, willingly,
that the occupant OF that house was
both young and beautiful. 1t is true
that the 'front.' fence cut off all view OF
the house and yard, but it's boards
we're so neatly whitewashed and the
gate almost brilliant in q suit OF pea
green paint. that they, like the illus.
trated cover of a book, spoke for the
interior.
II further testimony was asked for
regarding the charms of the house
holder before alluded to, the corner
grocery man and the Gascon old gen.
tleman who supplied the neighbour
hood with milk might be called upon,
for both had seen that exquisite face
at early morn as it passed modestly
by on its way to mass. Both of these
witnesses had frequently spoken of
that little figure in black, and both
had put their five fingers together in
a bunch and kissed their tips ecstati.
cally, calculating, "Comme Co.," as
expressive OF the quality of the lady's
beauty. The house was cottage and
it stood some distance back from the
street, q luxuriant flower garden in
tervening. 1t was built in the old
Creole style, about which there
is so little pretension and so much
comfort. The landlord, when
spoken to regarding his tenants, had
IN a very practical way destroyed
many illusions that had gathered
around the inmates OF the house, by
stating that it was rented to Mons.
Jerome Savoy and his sister, neither
over twenty-five.
"They seldom went out" he said,
''for they had been left orphans not
long since, and their father, just before
dying, had acknowledged that his mer.
camille house had been running for
some time on a false credit and he was
a ruined man." With this rather un.
satisfactory requiem he had closed
his eyes. and was dutifully followed to
the old St. Louis cemetery by his
two children. the heavy disap-
pointment OF his creditors keep
ing them away. He had kept q large
establishment, with = score of slaves
ana all the paraphernalia that be-.
longed in the 'fifties," in New Orleans.
, to wealth. Now all this was gone. A
! meeting OF creditors, a syndic, and a.
sheriff with his red flag and drum, all
| had vanished, leaving the brother and
sister with good education and but
little money. Estelle, the young lady.
mourned the loss of her father sincere.
ly, but nature had endowed her with
! that priceless gift, a happy DISPOSE
ton, and after Il season of weeping
she had gathered her own little saw.
ings together and, with her brother,
had started housekeeping in the
cottage. The society OF which
she was such an ornament knew
her no more; almost the only persons
OF the outside world who saw her were
her priest and the proprietor OF a lace
store were she regularly sold her week.
handiwork. Her piano had been saw
ed from the wreck and her ported
flowers also. With these she made
their little home gay. Her brother
found ready Employment in q mer-
camille house, so between them the un.
pretentious house on Rue Condo was
quite domestic paradise. With all
the happiness OF brother and sister
there was still q little skeleton in the
cottage. It is true, Jerome Savoy
never saw or heard from the diminu-
tive pest, but to Este|le it was uncer-
enormously. popping up at times
what uncomfortable. Particularly
ut twilight he would make his appear
ance as she sat at the piano toying
with the keys. Then it was that this
traditional household appendage
would creep out and give a tug at Es.
telle's heartstrings. This skeleton
was the sweet recollection Of a certain
gentleman by the name of Edgar For.
tineau, who had been very attentive
to her before her fathers death, and
who had said to her some of those
things that are very pleasant to a
girls ears. He vowed eternal love
and fidelity, but was sent to England
by the house with which he was con.
nected only a few days before the de-
mise OF the bankrupt savoy-much to
their mutual regret.
Estelle had thought of him at least
once q day for the last two years,
that once being, as was said before,
at twilight, the time he used to call.
Sometimes of mornings he would
give her a pang as she was cleaning
up the little parlor and happened to
come across a piece of music he had
given her or some piece ofremembered
bric-a-brac. No letter came from
France, however, and Estelle had
buried him snugly in one of the far.
thest family lots of her hearts ceme-
terry, from which the skeleton would.
however, return so frequently. She
had commenced the study OF English,
now that it was fast becoming the
language of the old Crescent City. and
this, with her lace work, occupied
| much of her time.
One bright morning the brass griffin
OF knocker on the front gate Of the
cottage gave unmistakable signs that
somebody was handling it, for there
came from it's jaws a rat-acplan of
blows that awakened the drowsy
knocking. bird in it's cage and startled
Estelle in her household duties. She
tinidily ventured out, when, with a
profuslon OF compliments and largess
Of smiles, old Nine. Colcon greeted the
astonished young lady. The old mad
anne, who had been q friend of tho
family in better days, began by telling
of the great difficulty she had in find
ing Estelle. and then made known tho